Echoing Laughter
by vigilantism
Summary: The world changed when he met Walter Bernhard.


Joachim Armster was more a victim of circumstance than a victim of anything else. He was the son of a nobleman, set to inherit quite a sum of money, as well as lands and titles. His life was on a set path, predictable but acceptable. He was bored much of the time, with the people and things around him. He suffered from a bit of ennui, and he had developed a sense of cruelty from being spoiled, as so many young men of his station did.

The world changed when he met Walter Bernhard. The man was mysterious, and he was different. That alone was enough to interest the bored young lordling. He met Walter in a pub on the outskirts of town. It was very late, and Joachim was thinking of leaving. His friends had mostly dispersed by then, and he'd been left alone with his brooding thoughts and a mug of ale. Walter swept in as if he'd materialized out of the darkness itself. He was dressed in a way Joachim thought was old fashioned, but the materials he wore were rich in design. And his hair was red - redder than anyone else's in those parts, and fashioned in a way Joachim had never seen.

Walter had ordered something at the bar, and looked around the room though half-lidded eyes. Something sparked in Joachim as he met that gaze. He found his way up to the bar as if spellbound, unable to resist the allure of this man and his strange clothes.

Unlike most other people - even strangers - that Joachim met, Walter held his interest without trying. He maintained that sense of distance, like he was just outside the world looking in. Joachim himself felt like that, more than just sometimes, and to see someone _acting like he felt_ struck a chord in him.

He accepted Walter's invitation to leave the pub, though he didn't know where the man would take him. He could guess at his intentions, and he was flattered that someone so interesting (and so much older than he was) would desire him.

The next morning, he woke in his own bed, with very little recollection of the previous evening. He remembered _Walter_ , though he could not recall the exact series of events. He remembered a dark bedroom, sweet wine, something painful mixed in with the pleasure Walter gave him. Walter's laughter echoing off of stone walls.

The light hurt his head, and he stayed in bed. There was a strange mark on his neck. He could not see it, for it was far back and even looking in a mirror barely showed it. It was numb around the edges, and he felt like it ought to have hurt more than it did. Still, it had to just be something left from their lovemaking the night before, and he pushed it out of his mind.

The light continued to hurt his head for several days. He took to only going out in the evening, when he felt most like himself. His friends worried after him, but he dismissed their worries.

He went back to the pub every evening for nearly a fortnight, hoping that the strange man who had left him in such a state would return. It seemed, though, that it was not to be, and he felt himself start to despair. He could not explain it to his friends, and they laughed at him. He lashed out at them, and chased them off with cruel words.

They did not matter.

On the night of the new moon, when Joachim had more or less given up for the night and was setting out home, a voice called him from the shadow of a building. He looked up, hardly daring to hope, and met the strange golden eyes of Walter Bernhard.

"I've been waiting for you," Walter said. Joachim thought he noticed the ghost of a smile on the man's lips, though it could have just been the shadows.

"I thought you were gone for good," Joachim said, schooling his tone into indifference.

Walter chuckled. "I'm not finished with you yet," he said. "Come."

He turned and walked down the street. Joachim hesitated only a moment before he moved, picking his step up so that he could walk beside Walter.

"Where are we going?"

"There is something I would like to show you," Walter said.

The night went much as the first one had. Walter was an attentive lover, but he was also a harsh one. He paid no heed for how much anything hurt, and in fact seemed to take pleasure in hurting his young companion. Joachim, for his part, found himself not only unwilling to protest, but _enjoying_ the harshness.

He woke alone again the next morning, though this time he was not at home. Walter had left him at the edge of town, in an empty hayloft. He had never felt so undignified. Luckily, no one was around when he stumbled home.

He heard them whispering about him. To his surprise, he could actually make out the words, whispered as they were. People were questioning him, _judging_ him. He felt anger come out of nowhere, quick and hot. He moved faster than he was aware he could, grabbing the young man who had thought to mock him for crawling home so late and messed up. He slammed the other man into the wall behind him, and heard something crack. The man cried out, and tried to shove Joachim off, to no avail.

"Do not presume to judge when you do not know the circumstances," Joachim hissed.

"Have you gone mad?!" the man's companion asked. He pulled Joachim's shoulder, seeking to get him away from his target. Joachim whirled on him, as well. The man swung a fist, but Joachim saw it coming a mile away. He caught the blow in one hand, and tightened his own hand on the man's fist. He could feel the bones straining under his grasp, and it was almost delightful. He was grinning as his grip tightened further, though he could not see how mad he truly looked.

"L-let go of me!" the man cried, trying to pull his hand away. Joachim held him for another moment before he did release him.

Both men looked at Joachim with fright. The one who had hit the wall was gripping his shoulder. He was bleeding; Joachim could smell it. _How_ he could smell it so acutely, he did not know. He became transfixed, though, staring at the man, looking for the blood. He couldn't see it, for it was on the back of his shoulder, but…

"You _have_ gone mad," the one whose hand he had grabbed said. "Stay away from us!"

He grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him. In a moment, they were both running away down the street. Joachim watched them go, the scent of blood strong in his nostrils.

He barely made it home before he was overcome with sickness. The day was too bright, and everything seemed…almost too intense. Colors were oversaturated. Sounds were too loud, too high, too tinny. In contrast, _he_ felt sluggish. He felt as if his blood was slow in his veins, as if his heart weren't beating fast enough. The mark on his neck hadn't gone away, and he almost thought he could feel it pulsing.

He climbed back into bed and fell into unconsciousness. When he woke, it was into delirium. He saw the world through a strange haze. He would wake into spells of lucidity and taste blood on his lips. He saw bodies lying on the ground - strange, mangled shapes with the light fading out of their eyes and blood running from their necks. He heard laughter echoing, like Walter's had, only it sounded strangely like his own voice.

He had a dream, or a nightmare, wherein one of the bodies had his father's face. When he looked again, he couldn't find it, but it upset him deeply. Darkness descended again, and he could not hold on to lucidity.

When he came fully back to himself, the first thing he heard was Walter's voice. At first, he thought he was still delirious. What would Walter be doing here? Walter had left him to his madness, last he knew.

"It was harder to track you down than I might have thought," Walter said. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking more unconcerned than his words would have implied.

Joachim was sitting against the wall. How he got there, or even where "there" was, he could not say. He looked up, letting his eyes focus on the man standing across the room from him.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, hoarsely.

Walter shrugged one shoulder, slightly. "Nothing you didn't want," he answered. "Though truth be told, it wasn't for _you_. I was bored, and you were convenient."

"Convenient. Wonderful," Joachim spat, and he stood up. He took a step toward Walter, then another, but it seemed to him he could not get much closer. "You came back though. Why?" he demanded, forcing himself to move again.

"You intrigued me in the end. Eternity is so _boring_. I had thought to destroy you after the game, but it might be more entertaining to keep you here. For awhile."

"Game? What game? What kind of _game_ are you playing, Walter?"

"That's not important."

"I want to go home."

"Ah, the problem with that is that you have no home to return to. Think, Joachim. Think of where you are, of how you got here."

"You brought me here! You must have!" Joachim said, accusing, taking another step.

"Did I?" Walter asked. He finally took a step forward, and it seemed to Joachim that the distance between them closed considerably. Walter stood right in front of him, close enough to touch. Joachim felt suddenly very aware of him. He was also very aware of himself. His heart ought to be racing, with all the complicated feelings he had about Walter. But he couldn't feel his heart at all - not even a tiny pulse beat in his chest that he could tell.

"No," he said, shaking his head as if to banish the very thought he was having.

"Think back," Walter said again, sounding almost concerned. "Where were you before you woke up here and saw me?"

Joachim stumbled backwards until he was against the wall again. His mind swam, feeding him memories he'd thought were dreams until Walter made him focus on them.

He saw himself - he _remembered_ \- leaving his bed in the middle of the night and going out into the town. He remembered running into a man walking alone in the road, sinking strange, sharp teeth into the man's neck. It was messy business. There was blood everywhere - running from the man's neck, dripping down Joachim's chin, staining his clothes. He was hardly satisfied, though, and two others met their fate in the same way.

He remembered being cornered by the guards at the door to his home. When they'd tried to grab him, he'd done…what? He couldn't quite describe it. The wrought iron gate had flung open, torn into pieces, and flown at the guards. This, too, was messy business. He had no control over the action; it was all defensive, reflexive. The gate had responded to his desire to defend himself more than anything else. One of the guards was impaled on a piece of iron. One took a nasty enough blow to the head to fall into unconsciousness. The others ran away, leaving shouted threats in their wake.

He remembered going inside, finding his sister there. She was horrified at the sight of him, covered in blood and grinning like a madman.

There was no thought to his actions then. Her terror struck some primal instinct in him, and he fell on her as he had fallen on the men in the streets. Her blood was sweet in his mouth, and her death was slightly less messy than the ones before. He was learning.

His mother was in her bed when he found her, and she never woke to see the monster her son had become.

His father found the body of his sister lying in a mess in the corridor. He came to hunt the creature than had killed her, though he was unprepared for the murderer to be his own kin. He faltered when Joachim turned on him, though he managed to brandish his sword in front of him.

"What have you done?" he asked, half a demand though his voice was too fearful to hold much weight.

Joachim could not find words to answer. The fight with his father was brief and almost one-sided. He was stronger, faster, and filled with a hunger he could not satiate. He barely felt the sword go through his shoulder. He didn't feel it at all when he grabbed the sword by the blade and ripped it from his father's hands.

His father's blood, when he tasted it at last, was not as sweet as his sister's had been. The kill was messy, because the young man was strong, and fought against him to the end. Bitter though it was, the end came as it had for the others.

Joachim remembered returning to himself long enough to lament what had happened. In his memory, he heard himself screaming, saw himself staring at the bodies of his family with terrible recognition.

He had fled, then, running at speeds normal people could not follow, out of the town and into the forest. He was blind in his madness, in his grief.

Walter had found him raving in the woods. He had comforted him, somehow, though that memory was one that still eluded him. He recalled hazy moments of following Walter through the woods. He remembered the entrance to the castle. He could hear Walter's voice, soft in his ears, almost soothing. He felt Walter's hands on his skin, removing clothing, scraping nails along flesh that felt different than the last time. He felt Walter's mouth on his skin, ending in teeth.

"No," he whispered, looking up at Walter again, coming back to the present. "It cannot be."

"You do not like the gift I have given you?" Walter asked, teasing.

"You said you were bored."

"And so I was. I chose you to draw out your father. I planned to bring you here and have him attempt to retrieve you. Though when he found you, he would find you as you are now. Not his son, but a monster."

Joachim shook his head, and Walter laughed.

"Ah, but I underestimated the strength of your will. And perhaps the strength of your hunger. You reached him before I could come back for you. Spoiled my plans, yes, but it's all been very entertaining."

"You made me murder my family!" Joachim exclaimed.

"No. You did that without my help. _I_ made you a _vampire_. You chose what to do with that all on your own."

The word "vampire" hit Joachim's ears like an explosion. He had heard stories of creatures that roamed the night, feeding on the blood of others. He had never given them much merit, however. It sounded like the kind of tale used to scare children into behaving. And yet here he was, and he could not deny it. His heard did not race because he had no heartbeat. He had not felt the sword because he did not feel in the way that he had before. The hunger that even now raged in him was for blood; food and drink would not satisfy him now.

He glared at Walter. His eyes felt hot, like two burning coals in his head.

Walter looked mildly interested, but certainly not threatened. "Be careful, boy," he warned. "This is my castle. The night does not end here, and I am the ruler of the night. Do you think you can beat me, just because you are angry?"

"My family is dead because of you!"

"Your family is dead because of _you_."

"You should follow them," Joachim said. Once again, he found himself moving without thought. The room they were in had a few old bones in it, leftover from those who had failed to conquer this castle. Their weapons lay with them. Joachim reached for one old, rusted sword. It came to him without him having to bend to pick it up. Around the room, bones and metal clattered, though he did not have the strength or control to draw more than one blade to him.

The blade swung through the air, guided by thought and emotion instead of by his hands.

It surprised Walter, and he took a step back.

"Again, you are stronger than I imagined," he said. Though he had been surprised, he was not concerned.

The blade swung again, but Walter batted it away with the back of his hand as if it were a fly. "Do not annoy me, boy, or I will not let you live."

"What does it matter if I live or die? You made me a monster!" Joachim said, and the sword flew again.

Again, Walter did no more than brush it away. "Do you think so? You will never age, never die. As long as I allow you to live, that is. Did I not give you a gift?"

The amusement in the old vampire's tone drove Joachim's anger. In the end, however, he was no match for Walter's abilities. He had very little control over his own, and he could not fight a vampire as old as Walter was.

"Why don't you stay here awhile and rethink. You are angry at me for the wrong reasons."

Joachim had exhausted his strength and lay bleeding on the floor.

Walter knelt before him and brushed a lock of Joachim's hair back away from his face. There was tenderness in the gesture, though it made Joachim angrier than anything else to think of it as such.

"I will return, and perhaps you will be in a better mood. Try not to get too hungry down here. I don't know when any of my _guests_ will make it this far down.

Walter was gone before Joachim could say anything, leaving him alone in the room with only the skeletons and the sounds of rushing water for company. His laughter echoed on the stones and in Joachim's mind long after he was gone.


End file.
